


3, 2, 1

by tyndaridai



Category: Korean Drama, 상속자들 | The Heirs
Genre: F/M, Ficathon, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:52:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3082862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyndaridai/pseuds/tyndaridai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're 15. Rachel is in 6-inch stilettos when he kisses her.</p><p>(Day 8 of the 12 Days of Youngra)</p>
            </blockquote>





	3, 2, 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that New Years is not celebrated on the solar calendar in Korea like it is in the west, but as it is popular to celebrate both these days, I didn't think this was too far out of the realm of possibility. If this is wrong, let me know!
> 
> Please check [this masterpost](http://tyndaridaes.tumblr.com/post/105382274895/masterpost) for more information about the small ficathon.

They're 15. Rachel is in 6-inch stilettos when he kisses her.  
  
It's another of Bo Na's classic New Years Eve parties (her Father's actually, but Bo Na had a penchant for staking claims) and Young Do manages to piss of Bo Na within the first minute of walking through the door--late.  
  
"What do you think you're doing here?" she hisses when he swaggers in with Myung Soo, arm slung over his shorter friend's neck. "Did you take a wrong turn somewhere? This party is invite  _only_."  
  
"Good thing I'm Myung Soo's date then," he smiles a bit sharply, dismissively, and plucks the noisemaker from Bo Na's fingers.   
  
"Ya, Choi Young--"  he blows the noisemaker right in her face. " _Ya!"_  
  
"Happy New Year," he mumbles through the plastic and Myung Soo stiffles a giggle beside him, turning Bo Na nearly red with rage. She looks fit to throttle him and Young Do can't help but wait for it, taunting her with the purple piece of obnoxious plastic hanging from his mouth.   
  
"Bo Na," her Father calls for her over the din of music and swaying bodies, and Bo Na's fist falls to her side. She's glaring at Young Do, mouth opening and closing like a fish before she turns on her heel and stalks off into the crowd.   
  
"Let's find drinks before she poisons them," Myung Soo reasons, unconcerned by their impending doom.  
  
Young Do nods and let's Myung Soo slip from his hold. "Keep a look out for any fireworks too," he advises and shares a sage nod with Myung Soo before the other boy is tripping into the crowd and towards the open bar.   
  
"Masochist," sounds off from somewhere to his left and Young Do turns, noisemaker nearly falling from his mouth.  
  
It's Rachel, of course. But... Young Do blinks and takes a good look at her. It's a much taller Rachel.  
  
"You grew."  
  
Rachel's superior expression freezes on her face as she instinctively covers her chest and serves Young Do with a venomous glare. He rolls his eyes.   
  
"Your height. But if you'd like me to--"  
  
"Louboutin," she interrupts and takes a few steps towards him in her 6-inch heels. "Feeling threatened?"  
  
Young Do takes a good look at her, lip curling. "I'm still taller." Rachel seems annoyed, eyes darting between the small gap in their heights. Young Do knew though, that while Rachel had probably stopped her growing at a tiny 5'4", Young Do was 6 foot and nowhere near finished. He thought he'd go for a respectable 6'3". Anything less would be a disappointment.  
  
"Yes," she says mildly, smile like a knife. "Almost as tall as Tan."  
  
Young Do's grip tightens on the noisemaker and he gives a short burst of air through it. "Cute," he says.   _B_ _itch_ , he thinks. "Why aren't you at your Mother's New Years Eve party?"  
  
"Why aren't you at your Father's?"  
  
Young Do takes the noisemaker from his mouth and looks away. "You know me," smile quick, "I don't do well under parental supervision."  
  
"I do," she answers quietly, and when Young Do looks back to her she's staring hard at the glittering lights of Seoul through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It's not the first time that Young Do has thought Rachel pretty. It is the first time; however, that Young Do has thought that they may share something outside of the common denominator that was Kim Tan.  
  
She clears her throat and glances down at her glass of wine.   
  
_"10."_  
  
"It's Chardonnay," she says, ignoring the thrilled shouts of the rest of the party as the countdown begins. He arches a brow, attention divided between the noise and Rachel's impressive indifference towards it. 15 and more composed than most of the people in the room.  
  
"And?"  
  
" _9_."  
  
"It's disgusting, and Myung Soo seems to have gotten lost. Finish it?"  
  
Young Do's brow furrows.  
  
" _8_."  
  
"If it's disgusting, then why would I drink it?" He scoffs and slides the noisemaker back into his mouth. "Poison? At least be clever about it."  
  
" _7\. 6._ "  
  
"Please," Rachel sneers, and tosses her shining hair over her shoulder. "If I wanted to kill you, I'd use good wine."  
  
Young Do actually chuckles, touched. "Thanks."  
  
" _5_."  
  
"Take it," she thrusts it into his hand and the glass nearly drops when he bats her away.   
  
"Can't," he points to the noisemaker perched between his lips. "My mouth is occupied."  
  
" _4_."  
  
She takes a step closer, face upturned and inches from his own when she snatches the plastic from his mouth.  
  
Reflexively, his fingers move to...  
  
He's not even sure to be honest, and they hang there, nearly brushing her satin clad hip.  
  
" _3_.  _2_."  
  
"Not anymore," she's smirking, smug, and Young Do is strangely caught on the curve of that smile.   
  
" _1_."  
  
"Happy New Year!" the room errupts, an explosion of colour and noise, and Young Do hears one of Mega Entertainment's questionably talented bands start up again.   
  
Rachel looks around mildly, distaste clear on her expression. Young Do feels oddly compelled to do something, say something, but he doesn't realize it until he's reaching forward for the glass hovering between the small space between them.  
  
"Happy New Year," he mumbles and the 6 inch addition to Rachel's normal height makes it ridiculously easy to lean forward and press his lips to hers.   
  
Rachel doesn't gasp, but he feels her grip tighten on the wineglass where their fingers touch. It's a short kiss, more a lingering brush of skin than anything and he backs away quickly.   
  
Her eyes are wide, flickering between uncertainty and outrage as she stares back at him.  He swallows back his own uncertainty, his incredulity at his own actions. _This was Rachel_.  
  
He pretends that, for a brief moment, she hadn't kissed him back (she had). He pretends that he's drunk (he isn't). He pretends that he's not the most foolish person in the room (debatable).   
  
"Last kiss for a dead man," he drawls, hiding the panic behind his typical shit eating grin. He winks and that seems to settle it for Rachel, who hides the flush on her cheeks by throwing the noisemaker at his chest.  
  
"Asshole."  
  
The noisemaker clatters to the floor and Rachel wrenches the wine glass from his hand. "I was wrong," she huffs, "the good wine would be wasted on you."   
  
"Ya well," bristling a little at her disdain. "Who the fuck drinks wine on New Years Eve anyways." 


End file.
